


suffocating in a smoke filled room

by skeleton_twins



Category: Hotel Artemis (2018), Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Dysfunctional Relationships, Fuckbuddies, Hate Sex, Kinda, M/M, Minor Violence, Porn With Plot, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim (2013), Pre-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), Riding, Smoking, Verbal Humiliation, and trashy, look this is gay, throw me in the garbage and let's pretend I didn't write this cursed fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 08:59:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14745824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeleton_twins/pseuds/skeleton_twins
Summary: “So what happened?”Feeling exposed, Hermann bends at the waist, snagging his shirt from the floor. He hastily tugs it over his head, “What do you mean?”The man sighs, annoyed that he has to explain himself. “We only fuck when you’re upset. What happened?”or the Hotel Artemis/Pacific Rim crossover AU literally no one asked for where Hermann has an affair with Acapulco during the ten-year separation from Newt.





	suffocating in a smoke filled room

**Author's Note:**

> So this might be the most wretched, cursed fic I've ever written but I tweeted about this idea over on Twitter: https://twitter.com/skeleton_twins/status/999333845806796803 and since then this idea has been haunting me so I had to write it to get it out of my system.
> 
> Unbetaed.
> 
> Title from the song "Smoke" by Daughter.

Smoke fills the room with each exhale. Hermann breathes in the nicotine, tastes it on his tongue, and blows out again. The cigarette dangles between his teeth, before a hand from the shadows reaches out, plucks it from his mouth. 

 

Hermann listens to the loud inhale beside him and smells the smoke afterward mingling with the faint trace of sex lingering from just minutes before. It burns his nostrils, makes his eyes water and fills his lungs, poisoning them. 

 

Shame wells up inside him like it does after every encounter, forces a lump in his throat, making it painful to swallow. He sits up then, pushing the satin sheets off his body. A breeze enters from an open window. He shivers as the cool air hits his bare, damp skin. 

 

“So what happened?”

 

Feeling exposed, Hermann bends at the waist, snagging his shirt from the floor. He hastily tugs it over his head, “What do you mean?”

 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Hermann. I know you’re not and you know I’m not either.” 

 

Hermann doesn’t respond.

 

The man sighs, annoyed that he has to explain himself. “We only fuck when you’re upset. What happened?”

 

“Why ask? You don’t care.” Hermann stands on wobbly legs, he draws his jeans up, turning around to face the man still sprawled in bed as his fingers knock against the button of his jeans.

 

Moonlight pours into the room, illuminating half of his face, the other half lost, enshrouded in the shadows. It’s the scarred side that’s visible. The claw-like scar running down his eye, splitting the pupil. Hermann doesn’t know how he attained it. He doesn’t bother to ask, just like Acapulco doesn’t ask about his leg.

 

Acapulco laughs, causing ash to shake from the cigarette still resting between his lips. He leans forward, holding it out for Hermann to take. 

 

“You’re right, I don’t.” 

 

Hermann declines the offer with a shake of his head, and Acapulco shrugs like it’s his loss, before dousing the flame, sticking the cigarette into the ashtray on the nightstand beside the bed.

 

“C’mon then, let’s hear it. What did your Newt do?”

 

“Don’t you dare say his name.” Hermann spits, enraged at hearing Newton’s nickname falling from this man’s lips. He doesn’t know why it angers him, he knew Newt wouldn’t care, not really. Hell, Newton doesn’t even refer to himself as just Newt anymore. 

 

Still, the name doesn’t belong on the lips of a depraved criminal. 

 

Acapulco frowns, expression darkening, “Watch your fucking mouth. This little arrangement?” He waggles a finger in the space between them. “It benefits you more than it does me. If I need someone to fuck, I could easily find someone else. You on the other hand?” He shakes his head.

 

“I’m not going to pretend to know what you’re talking about.” Hermann lies, fastens his jeans, doesn’t even bother buttoning his shirt, snatching his cane from leaning against the wall. But he knows. He knows exactly what the arms dealer is referring to.

 

He ignores the panic tightening in his chest, “I shouldn’t even be here. You’re a criminal. Worse, a facilitator for murder. This arrangement, as you call it, is over.” 

 

Acapulco doesn’t say a word until Hermann has his fingers wrapped around the doorknob. 

 

“Funny,” He rises from the bed, completely nude without a lick of shame. “How easy it is for you to call me a murderer with my come still drying on your stomach.”

 

Hermann’s freezes, his hand stills on the door handle. He listens to the approaching footsteps, each step feels like a blow, a punch to the gut, making it harder to breathe.

 

He’s trapped between the door and the criminal. Cornered. His fingers slip off the knob. 

 

“I had my men follow Doctor Geiszler after the first night you mentioned him. They showed me some  _ very  _ interesting photos.”

 

Heats rush to his face, his cheeks burning, at first embarrassed because Acapulco  _ knows _ . But then realization sets in like he’s being doused with cold water. His stomach twists with shame. Hermann had put Newton at risk. Acapulco would never even know about Newton if Hermann hadn’t slipped to such desperation to chase his loneliness away with this affair. 

 

Acapulco bares his teeth, a wolfish grin, and Hermann knows this is an unspoken threat. It’s buried under a sleazy smile and wink. _ I know where the love of your life resides, I know where he goes, I know where he works and I can easily make him disappear with the snap of my fingers. _ The thought that he’s the reason for putting Newton in the sights of a cruel, malicious criminal makes Hermann snap. He spins, switching their positions, slamming him against the door. A whoosh of air escapes Acapulco’s mouth but is quickly cut off with Hermann’s cane.

 

“Are you still following him?” Hermann demands, pressing the cane a little harder against the arms dealer’s throat. He hates how Acapulco’s eyes roll upwards in the back of his head, before fluttering shut. 

 

Acapulco moans and Hermann releases him quickly.

 

“Are you still following him?” Hermann repeats his question, with a little more force, jabbing his cane into the criminal’s chest with each word.

 

“ _ No _ .” Acapulco wheezes, hunched over, gasping. He gingerly touches his neck and immediately Hermann feels regret and guilt for his actions. He shouldn't, after all the blood dripping from Acapulco’s hands, a little choking pales in comparison. Still, Hermann chews on his bottom lip, biting until a metallic taste springs forth onto his tongue. “So you knew?” 

 

The arms dealer straightens, rests his head back against the door once the air had returned to his lungs. “That I share an eerie resemblance to your doctor? Yeah.” 

 

Hermann feels like a fool. Acapulco had known the entire time they’ve been together. He refuses to look at him, averting his gaze, staring at the door behind the criminal. “Move.” 

 

Acapulco laughs again, another hit to Hermann’s pride. 

 

“This...thing between us is over...It was a mistake. It should never have started in the first place. Step aside.” Hermann tries again. A part of him wants to believe it, that he could walk away right now without looking back. But Hermann had spewed the same promises before, that this was the last time. He wouldn’t return. 

 

And yet...

 

“There will never be anyone else who comes as close to looking like him. You and I both know that.” He coughs, his voice low and raspy, rough from Hermann’s wooden cane pressing against his throat. 

 

Hermann hates him a little at that moment for hitting the nail on the head, for knowing him so well, knowing him so intimately. He should abhor him, but he doesn’t. Not really. He looks too much like the man he loves for him to properly hate.

 

He glances down and what he finds both repulses him and causes heat to flare just below his navel. “Are you seriously hard right now?” Hermann hisses. 

 

“ _ Fuck _ yes.” Acapulco groans, palming at himself.

 

Hermann slaps his hand away, replacing it with his own. “I hate you.”

 

“We both know that’s a fucking lie.” He tightens his grip, making Acapulco give out a painful yelp before dissolving into a long moan once more. 

 

“You disgust me,” Hermann growls, feeling Acapulco’s cock twitch in his hand at the hateful words. He despises that he’s aware of exactly what to say to get the criminal so hard, it aches, to get his cock dripping precome. A part of him loves it, a little too much. And he’s just as hard. His erection pressing painfully against the zipper of his jeans.

 

It’s afterward, Hermann recalls Acapulco’s question: _ “So what happened? What did your Newt do?” _

 

After Acapulco drags him back to bed and straddles him, pinning him to the mattress, caging Hermann’s hips with his thighs. It’s after Hermann slides inside him with such ease that makes them both moan, Acapulco still slick with Hermann’s come from the first round. After the room’s flooded with noises of the mattress squeaking rhythmically as Acapulco rides him fast and rough, bouncing on Hermann’s lap. It’s after they both cry out when their orgasms hit, their face twisting with pleasure, after Hermann still strokes him, milking every drop as Acapulco’s cock spasms, droplets of come hitting Hermann’s chest. 

 

It’s after Acapulco groans out, “Fuck. Goddamn.  _ Fuck _ ,” when Hermann’s cock slips out of him. It’s long after their breathing eases and the blood in their veins slows. After the scent of sex permeate the air once more, after the smoke returns with Acapulco lighting up another cigarette. The orange glow illuminating the dark room.

 

It’s when Hermann accepts the cigarette, lets Acapulco pushes it between his lips. It’s then he responds, after he takes a deep breath, smoke fumes invading his lungs. 

 

“He wants me to meet her.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> If somehow you managed to reach the end of this fic, "Her" is a reference to Alice. The events that happened prior to this fic is: Newton asks Hermann for the first time to meet Alice and it doesn't go over too well. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, this could...possibly...maybe might become a series. We'll see.


End file.
